In which I have awoken in a strange world, without memories...the diary of a lunatic.
June 24, 2009
After washing the pus off my face this morning, I was shocked to see in the mirror tiny maggots beginning to bore their way through my face. The little white worms stood upright from the little homes of holes they had made in my cheeks and only stared at me with their microscopic little eyes. I, of course, stared back. Then on each of them tiny slits for mouths opened, and I was immediately paralyzed by their piercing screams. I soon blacked out.
I came to in a dark void, and was greeted by a familiar sight: the enchanted naked wizard who appears to me in my dreams and grants me the power during the day to run naked through public places screaming about the giant jello man eating my face.
He stood there hunch-backed, his shriveled genitalia pointing downward like a divining rod. His limp right arm held a bent magic wand, and a long white beard hung from his face and had what appeared to be dung beetles crawling through it.
I asked him to grant me a special new power: the power to experience true happiness, to live freely in a pristine wonderland, to see new colors that had never before been seen.
"I'll smash swissssh cheese up a moose's rear," he slurred, saliva draining from his mouth and irrigating his dry, frizzy beard.
He then granted me the power to be raped by him, which I was slightly unhappy with.
I woke up ten hours later submerged in an eel tank.
May 11, 2009
The Cloud that Crashed to Earth
(Today's entry contains a secret code that can only be revealed by pressing your eyeballs firmly against the page)
Think I strained a muscle in my neck. Spent too much time crouched down with my head twisted to the side and my ear on the floor, listening for them. Those huge, monstrous worms that bore through the earth, scheming to burst through my floorboards at any moment, devouring everything in their path. Well, they won't devour me. I was on to them.
It was then that a sharp buzzing noise reverberated through my skull. I clutched my head tightly. No, it's happening again! I thought to myself. A rip in my wallpaper slowly making its way upwards toward the ceiling caught my eye. I admit, I might not have been in the most sober condition at that time, and it may be for this reason that I thought the rip was not just in my wallpaper, but in the very fabric of space-time itself!
I burst from my home into the city streets, screaming madly and ripping out chunks of my hair amid the wailing of air raid sirens. I paused momentarily from my mental frenzy to behold a strange sight in the sky. A puffy white cloud hanging ominously low overhead, slowly descending towards the ground, roaring like a low flying passenger jet. It continued to drift past us and traveled several blocks down the street where it finally hit. The ground shook as it made contact and I was nearly knocked off my feet.
With a howl, the cloud exploded into a thick mist of ever changing colors that enveloped us instantly. Disembodies faces emerged within the mist and announced that they were taking us away to a strange place, and that we would be returned momentarily to our homes and places of business. Also, that anyone who has to go to the bathroom should go now because we wouldn't have another opportunity until we got back. Suddenly, worms began shooting out of people's mouths, and before I could react, everything went black.
Several days later we were finally freed from the mist. We emerged to a new world. A world where Friday came after Saturday. A world where giant worms dominated the Earth. And where I was no longer the kind of person I never was.
Mortimer croaked.
May 6, 2009
Fermenting Lamenting
Day 11:
Head so tired. Eyes so heavy. Thoughts like static. I grow weary of this place. Madness continues to grow in the fertile soils of my mind. And despite my best efforts I find myself unable to escape the omnipresent judgment of the denizens of this realm and their demented circus logic.
Am I being too paranoid? I had thought to myself. Or not paranoid enough? I'm already wearing a tinfoil helmet. Should I convert my skin to lead as an extra precaution? Of course, that could also kill me, so it was not without its risks.
A little gnome man appeared on my shoulder and whispered to me, "Beware the elephant which comes to bear fruit! The walls have ears! And eyes! Don't let the shadowed ones consume you!"
The strange gnome creature was wise. Caution is always the best policy. I will try hard to increase my caution levels.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something strange. No, it wasn't the wicked gnome man raiding my refrigerator without asking. It was a rusty lead pipe lying on the ground. That wasn't there before...
No, that wasn't there before at all. It had been two inches to the left earlier. Something was very wrong. Then it hit me: that lead pipe must be a clever disguise for an agent operating on behalf of an intergalactic espionage syndicate! Intergalactic espionage directed at me!
Activating my dormant cat-like reflexes, I quickly somersaulted across the room and grabbed a hold of the pipe, holding it tightly in my vice-like grip. "Got you!" I shouted. As I squeezed tighter, I could see it trying to hide its face behind a mask of inanimate being, but I would not be fooled.
Suddenly, Mortimer's tongue lashed out, wrapped tightly around the pipe, and ripped it from my grip. Into his mouth it went, consumed in that bottomless pit he called a stomach.
"Mortimer, you fool! I needed to extract information from him first! You're as useless at interrogation as you are at defending me!" I shouted, recounting his failure back in the sewers.
My eyes glazed over, I rested my head in my hands, and I sighed with yearning. Ah, the sewers. I still had so many fond memories of that place: the wall people that threw up on me, maneuvering my way through piles of decaying organs, being raped by that winged sewer beast. Now there was a place I could call home. Just thinking about it gave me a nice warm feeling.
Minutes later I realized that warm feeling was Mortimer urinating on my head.
May 2, 2009
Gross Encounters of the Unheard Kind
Day 7:
One week mark. Feeling a bit fatigued right now. Of course you would, too, if you had spent the day running around trying to stab the miniature green giraffes that have infested your home with toothpicks.
At night I made a decision to go exploring the sewers beneath the city -- and the voices in my head agreed. I rode there on an enchanted flower petal, having prepared for the coming darkness by arming myself with a pair of lightweight night vision goggles I had fastened onto the front of my tinfoil helmet for enhanced seeability. And of course a handful of sharpened toothpicks should I need to battle whatever beasts lurk there. I also slicked myself up in Mortimer's goo so as to make myself harder to grab on to.
Once down there, I encountered a feast for the eyes. Rainbow colored sludge ran fast through the tunnels, and stacks of brains littered the walkways. Faces emerged from the stone walls to warn me of hidden dangers, before vomiting purple all over me.
Had I been paying attention to where I was walking instead of thinking about randomized topographical data, I wouldn't have stepped off a steep drop the way I did. A 20-foot fall ended with me landing hard on my back. Suddenly, a bizarre creature emerged from the darkness and began floating directly above me. It had the wings of a butterfly, a primitive reptilian head with a long, worm-like tongue, and the body of a centaur. Just the horse part.
I completely freaked, began shrieking uncontrollably, and flung my handful of toothpicks at the beast. They bounced harmlessly off its hide.
"Mortimer, do something!" I cried. Mortimer croaked.
I hurled Mortimer at the beast, but he missed. It was then that the strange creature began screeching loudly and beating its wings furiously, kicking up dust all around me. As I waved the dust away from my eyes, I noticed the beast was hovering closer and closer to me.
The strange creature enveloped me, and as its wings and limbs and tongues fluttered violently, it was either having sex with me or pummeling me to a fine pulp. I finally regained consciousness back in my hovel covered in blue bruises and orange blisters, so whichever of the two it was, it was pretty rough.
April 30, 2009
Ever Stranger Things
Day 5:
I made a decision today to try and embrace the growing madness that dwells within and around me. I spent some time earlier today in exploration, happily skipping down the street, stopping occasionally to pet the giant earwigs as they come trampling down the sidewalk, having recently escaped from the children's petting zoo. They give excellent rides for the kids.
Of course, I shake off the averted glares of the strangers I pass, flaunting their countenances of indifference. They may ignore my existence if they so choose, but I've deciphered their souls. I've touched their skin. I know how their sinuses are packed with remorse and their eyes rot from visions of failure past and future. Waste not I the time in which I have to protect myself before they act on their hideous designs to consume my mind.
In fact, threats loom from all directions. I've also taken to wrapping my skull in a makeshift tinfoil helmet, to keep the evil moon cyborgs from beaming their lunar propaganda to my brain. I won't be taken in by their mechanical plots to make me one of their cybernetic sex slaves!
Of course, slimy little Mortimer still sits atop my head, letting everyone know who leads the Lunatics around here. Plus, his warm translucent goo drips down and envelops my body, protecting me from the radioactive thoughts of shadow people who stalk me at every turn.
My explorations having been completed for the day, I returned home surprised to find a vagrant standing in my hovel. His thoughts seemed to have strayed from him, as if he were in a trance. I tried asking him who he was, but no reply. A new friend perhaps? Only one way to find out.
"Will you be my fri-" and a loud bang filled the room, the vagrant having pulled out a fairly large gun and blown his brains out with it.
The flood of colors that rushed from his nose and mouth was exquisite, the greens and reds and blues all forming a rainbow puddle beside his corpse. And for a moment i could have sworn I saw, through the hole in his head, bits of brains that had been blown apart sprout legs and scatter off in different different directions like frightened mice. I can still hear them now, as I write this, scuttling in the walls, absorbing my thoughts and stealing my memories.
As I sliced the vagrant open and began to unwrap his skin, I thought back to those dreary strangers I had passed on the street earlier. They needed something, I thought. These people didn't need suffering or aimlessness or other diseases of the mind. They needed a leader. Nay, they needed royalty.
I pulled on the vagrant's intestines and they unfurled like a roll of toilet paper. And who better to lead the human waste of a land succumbed to utter insanity than the Leader of the Lunatics? To not just lead, but to rule them.
It was moments later that I proudly marched outside, the vagrant's royal blue intestines sewn together and draped over me as a monarch's robe, his femur in my hand as a scepter, and proclaimed to the people, "Fear not the pangs of mindlessness any longer, for I, the Lunatic, am here to rule you! And here today I present myself to you, wearing the flesh of the people!"
The response was tepid, but soon they will come flocking to me, every one of them, seeking strong and willful guidance. And I will lie in wait, ready to greet them with open arms.......and a sack of doorknobs.
April 28, 2009
My Mind: The Intangible Fascist
Day 3:
I've become convinced that the only difference between me and a crazy person is that I have total control over my loss of sanity. And by that I'm referring to the decision i made not to control it at all.
I've been quite out of my mind for some time now, and that vaccination against sanity has only better adapted me for living a life of broken reason. In that time I have been able to train myself to ignore the walls when they laugh at me, when the light bulbs sing happy songs to me, or when the toaster attempts to engage me in deep political discourse. But rest assured I've done little to prevent it altogether. To take a break from sucking on the gas lines and allow myself to sink into a life of idle boredom, that would truly cause me to go insane. And in this place, wherever it is, allowing one's self to live an innocent life is no easy task.
I plan on going exploring through the strange dreamlike world I find myself in over the next couple of days. To be honest the thought terrifies me, yet simultaneously fills me with wonder. Not unlike when I lost my virginity to that giant amorphous gelatin blob that lurches from the ocean to terrorize the city every few years. To descend deeper into the abyss, I must risk total mental annihilation. But I feel I am prepared.
Fear and paranoia have already become the soundtrack to my life. Kind of like how people say Dark Side of the Moon syncs up perfectly with the Wizard of Oz. Or how a Michael Bolton album syncs right up with staring at a wall. But I'm a wholly different species from your standard gutter-dwelling lunatic; that hideous breed who roam the derelict city streets at night, tearing up papers, screaming in palindromes, all while invisible pink gorillas are ripping out their hair. That's not me at all.
For one, I now have a residence. After yesterday's failure at obtaining a companion, I've holed myself up in some out-the-way abandoned projects. No longer will my presence in public be a nuisance to people. No longer will they shriek in horror or fear or just because they can. Was it the frog I wore on my head? Oh, by the way, I named the little guy Mortimer.
April 27, 2009
Falter Ego
Day 2:
Still can't remember who or where I am. As embarrassing an admission this is to make, I have no friends here. In a twisted way that's almost something to be proud of. But in another less twisted way, it's not. And in order to navigate this delirium-ridden world, I would need someone by my side.
After being referred by an article in the newspaper, I tried sneaking into a Mensa meeting. When in a bind, I figured it would be best to have the brightest at my side, with their large, juicy, delicious brains inside their box heads.
The first man I encountered there had a proclivity for speaking about the subject of beavers to whoever would listen. He seemed able to go on and on. As I listened to him, I was thoroughly impressed. Then a sudden thought rattled my mind: I must eat his brains and gain his knowledge. I, too, must know the mating habits of the beaver.
Before I could begin sharpening my teeth, I was accosted by several group members who claimed to have never seen me before and began demanding identification. When this occurred, I casually allowed my high school diploma to drop to the floor. "Oh, what's this?" I said, bending down to pick it up. "Why, it's my high school diploma. How clumsy of me." But hardcopy evidence of my extensive academic pursuits failed to impress them. They shouted things about security allowing vagrants onto the premises before kicking me out.
Is being naked in a public place, dripping with slime a crime all of a sudden??
Still in search of a friend, I wandered into a local school. Crawling my way through the dark, grimy, garden slug-infested hallways, I eventually encountered the school janitor.
"Oh woe is the lonely life of the janitor. If only I had but one friend," I heard him say as I stalked him.
Upon hearing this, I excitedly ran up to him. "Hi! Will you be my friend?" I asked, making sure to grin as widely as I could and baring as many teeth as possible.
He shrieked, and backing away from me replied, "Uh, no, I'm busy, please..." He then purposefully hurled himself down a nearby flight of stairs. "Arrghh, my meniscus!" he screamed in pain.
"I shall help you, my friend!" I called out as I started to run down to him.
"Uh, no, don't come any closer!" he shouted, "I think that fall down the stairs also gave me rabies!"
Defeated, I stumbled out into the street and sat down on the curb. Still alone, still an amnesiac, and still drifting aimlessly through a world of lunacy.
It was at this time I decided I didn't need any friends for the time being. I would be better off going it alone.
After all, the best friends of all were the ones inside my head.
April 26, 2009
Of Squirrels and Lunatics
Day One:
I came to this morning lying on the cold concrete in a puddle of blood. I slowly stood up, laughing
inaudibly as colors dripped from my head. My vision was a polychromatic blur and my head sounded only like loud
rumbling wrapped in peals of laughter. No memories to fill it, though. Nothing.
Dizzy and searching for clues, my hands fumbled at my shirt and pulled down the neckline. Looking down I could see what looked like a rabid squirrel tattooed across my chest. But it looked upside-down.
When I find who did this I'm going to get my money back, my thoughts screamed at me.
I felt a sudden lust for nuts.
Coming into focus out of the haze, squirrels in top hats singing and dancing in a chorus line surrounded me. Like something out of a Hollywood musical, it seemed like they were putting on a show just for me. It was a brilliant and quite catchy melody, although I can't remember for the life of me how it goes at the moment. As they built up to the big finale, they all waved their hats and hands majestically towards me, while one of them kneeled before me and presented me with a slimy mutated bullfrog. I accepted the bullfrog with an impossibly large grin on my face.
Whatever this place is and wherever I am...
I placed the frog on top of my head, crowning myself ruler of the Lunatics. And while yellowish frog slime dripped down my simpering face, I thought to myself:
Follow your dreams...
